But Jack Benson, though she made him feel inwardly at odds with himself,
thought more of his duty than of anything else.
"I am very sorry--awfully sorry, Mlle. Nadiboff. But won't you
understand that what you ask is wholly impossible?"
"Good-bye, then!" she said, resentfully, though gently, half turning
from him.
"You'll shake hands, won't you?" asked Jack, holding out his own right
hand.
"Perhaps, after I have talked with you on shore--when we meet again,"
she replied, a bit distantly. Then she turned to Williamson as her boat
came in close alongside. "Your hand, please. I am afraid I may slip."
Williamson helped that most attractive young woman down over the side,
lifting his cap after he had seen her safe aboard the rowboat. As
the harbor craft veered off, Captain Jack Benson lifted his cap with
all courtesy. Mlle. Sara Nadiboff bowed to him rather coldly.
"I suppose," sighed Jack, to himself, as he turned away, "a woman can't
begin to understand why we must be so secret aboard a submarine craft
that all the naval men in the world would like to know about. If she
only could understand!"
Had Benson been able to guess just how well the handsome young spy did
understand, and how much she had hoped to learn through appealing to his
interest in her, he would have been furious at the thought of his own
great simplicity.
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